Unwanted Mishap
by Ashurri1443
Summary: While tampering with his newest spell for revenge, England has a certain unwanted mishap that may even turn into a blessing or a curse. His misreading will thank him for that. FemEnglandXAmerica.
1. Spellbook Mishap

**Author Note: I do not own Hetalia or any of the countries but I am Russian, American, Irish, and a bit of Indian. Not to mention my grandmother is jewish, so there. Suck it. Hope that you enjoy the story, please leave reviews and comments if you want. No flames, I will go a mix of Spetnaz and Green berets on your butt.**

* * *

England smirked at his cleverness. The plan was absolutely without a doubt flaw proof, with a flick of a wrist and a few important words he would rein superior…. At the next G8 meeting that is. He had studied the perplexing incantation for weeks in his private study, and now following his gut and ability to correctly pronounce the text, he was positive that he finally had it down. He was not doing anything extreme or that drastic, he was simply casting a spell over America. Every time England tried to pitch his opinion or ideals to the rest of the eight members, Alfred would contradict and interrupt him. There was only so much the Britain could stand before mentally snapping. Now it was his turn for revenge. England opened the leather-bound book and cleared his throat before steadily reading the text of his spell book; he kept his eyes transfixed out the window toward the direction of the United States. A maleficent aura formed around his figure and a spontaneous wind began to swirl around the private room, causing text books to soar off the shelves and papers to lift up in the air. However, he stopped in the middle of chant when the book became hot to the touch and scorch the palms of his hands. He glanced down worriedly and dropped it in surprise, backtracking a bit before something hit him square in the gut. He instantly was thrown backward and slammed straight into the wall, as if he was hit with the grill of the truck. England stared at the book in awe, watching as the bloody thing stopped its rampage and then closed up all on its own. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his skull he sat on his hunches and rubbed his torso and abdomen, checking for any injuries that he could feel. Luckily, he felt known but had a foreboding feeling in the back of his mind that he would have a large bruise in the morning. Arthur then limped out the room and reminded himself mentally to clean it up later.

"Well, bloody hell." He sighed, "That's what you get for trying to curse someone England. I'll work on it more tomorrow but for now it is off to bed." He winced and coughed, shedding his clothes as he lumbered to the bedroom. Maybe he would get a maid, less cleaning up from his bollocks plans.

He stopped in the threshold of his bedroom to scan the area, his bedspread was of course personalized just for him; the comforter was the British flag. The royal blue, striking red, and pure white representing his country. Which he held much pride for. An isolated office desk was located in the adjacent corner, the top littered with paperwork and some paid bills. Besides that, there was a television set with a few documentaries and maybe one box-set of a famous television show in America. He could not deny. They did have interesting shows. He glanced at the off-white colored walls and scrutinized a few pictures of the other nations and himself before shuffling over to the bed. Arthur collapsed on to the bed with a little too much enthusiasm, feeling almost completely drained. He stared at the wall for a few minutes and then turned his head to the left before attempting to get comfortable. He kicked off his shoes and listened them hit the floor and then averted his eyes away from the wall to the digital clock that rested on a nightstand. It was around the time that he would make dinner. Letting out a lethargic sigh he let his eyes flutter close, leaving himself to his thoughts for a few minutes. This all happened because America did not pay attention to him, not to his ideals or to anything he wanted. He yawned. England was always second in his mind, no matter in what form he would never be seen for what he really was. Arthur rolled over onto his back and then snapped his eyes open, feeling his face get warm with slight agitation.

"That stupid git. For once, could he not think of himself…" _and think about me for once._ England then felt a presence to his right and glanced over at the corner of his eye, his friends; the unicorn and the other mythical creatures cooed and tried to console him. He gave them a reassuring smile before turning onto his side once more and pulling the pillow over his head, letting sleep take him away from his troubles.

Unfortunately a peaceful repose was not a comfort either. His dreams were out of complete category being sane. This first was the occasional revolutionary war, while the second was completely idiotic. France was murdered and turned into a giant pizza pie and Italy ate him, while the pepperoni France screamed bloody murder. Then Germany got in a fist-fight with Sealand and they both declared it a draw went to get hot chocolate together. To prevent these dreams from scarring his mind forever, England forced himself awake by opening his eyes and was immediately greeted with a pounding headache. Go figure. The blinding light of the breathtaking dawn seeped through the blinds and crawled across the floor and onto the bedspread. Hitting England directly in the face making his headache worse. Sometimes he wished the breathtaking dawn, wasn't so breathtaking. Arthur urged his aching body to sit up and then as soon as he did, he felt an annoying weight pressing down on his chest. He closed his eyes once more and waited to get accustom to the unusual defect in gravity, maybe his skirmish last night had taken a mighty toll on him. He placed a hand over his heart when he was greeted with something abnormal to say the least. His heart stopped at bit but then continued to beat; it wasn't a tumor or a growth because it was… warm and soft to the touch. Maybe his shirt had gotten balled up to his chest in his slumber; he pulled the hem of the white tank with his free hand and then frowned.

"That is weird, then what the fuck his th-aaahhhh!" He removed his hand from his chest in fright and wiped it on the blanket, as if the _thing _he had just groped was tainted with poison. He then glanced down and began to hyperventilate. There they were, protruding from his once manly chest was a pair of developed b-cup sized breasts. England than screamed at the top of his lungs, loud enough to wake up the poor queen of England.


	2. Changes

**Author's Note: Here is another chappie, thank you for the reviews so far it is much appreciated. I do not own Hetalia or the nations, but I do enjoy making England suffer to no end. Peace and Love, also since I may not get the chance to say this because of my busy school life; MERRY ALMOST CHRISTMAS, HANUKKAH, AND KWANZAA!**

**

* * *

**

Normally Hungary achieved the normal span of eight hours of blissful sleep, which mind you, was very hard to receive with all the things she had to accomplish day after day. So, around seven in the morning she was still knocked out cold in her comfortable canopy bed. Her breathing was shallow and soft and the sunlight rays that flooded through her bedroom did not bother her one bit. Nothing could ruin this moment of peace, nothing-… A shrill ring sounded through the air and surely enough she awoke, cracking one half-lidded eye. Nothing but a telephone call of course. Refraining from using foul profanity, Elizabeth sluggishly sat upward in bed. Her pale facial features softened by sleep and light brown hair normally wavy hair tousled around a bit. She managed to let a yawn escape her mouth before rolling ungracefully out of bed and then padding quickly out of her room, expertly avoiding any obstacles that stood in her way; like the dresser that she occasionally stubbed her toe on. She had a feeling trickle down her spine as she ventured out into the living room, clad in only a soft buttercup yellow nightgown and some wool socks on her feet. A feeling that she was going to regret picking up the unforgiving device all together. Mustering up some five-second courage she reached the phone and picked it up, bringing it to her lips and uttering softly into it.

"…Hello?" She was immediately greeted with an incoherent screeching of a frantic Englishman. The cordless phone bounced right out of her hands in surprise and into the air where she spent three seconds desperately trying to catch it. "E-England? Are you okay?! You sound like your being murdered!" She responded, as the ringing in her ears began to dissipate.

"I might as fucking well be! Hungary I need your help! I was going to call France but…. In this situation I'd rather not think about it!" He wailed into the receiver.

She took a moment to understand what he had meant by that and blinked in confusion, "England what's going on?" She treaded on dangerous grounds. Elizabeth was sure that she would be the last one England would call in a dire situation, which made her express great worry. The Britain would have normally called France or even America, and he only called her around holidays to give a polite "Hello" or "How are you?"

He went dead silent on the other line. Yes, this was one of those dire situations. She kept her fingers near the nine and one just in case. He coughed a bit, "W-well… I'd rather you come over, I'm not very sure… that I could explain…"

"Try."

"I woke up looking totally different than I was last night…"

She stifled a giggle, "Well maybe you should be careful drinking alone, is this one of those things where you wake up with a tattoo on your-."

He gave a nervous laugh, "I wish it were Hungary. Please, just come over…" Then the Englishman hanged up on the other end, leaving a very puzzled and sleep deprived Hungary.

* * *

This was more horrible than England could ever imagine. He took a deep breath and stood in the kitchen alone. He had accidentally turned himself into the opposite sex, a female. Though he was dreading the outcome, England darted for the washroom to see what else of his appearance changed. His heart was pumping vigorously from the anxiety of it all. He had to call someone… and he would rather die than call France or America, so he called the next best thing. An expert if you will, Hungary, seeing as she had experience being a woman. He needed someone to see this, even if it would embarrass him to no end, he needed to make sure that he was not going insane. Arthur closed the bathroom door behind him and then stepped into the mirror and into the light. He nearly had a heart attack due to the fact that he did not recognize himself in the slightest, until of course he saw his main reason for being patronized; his eyebrows. He leaned forward in awe; the spell must have been a powerful one to change him so drastically. His features were now feminine, his face softer and eyes brighter than usual. His lips were petite and rosy pink, and his hair was no longer short. It had grown to the length of his shoulder, the locks were the same color but it was sleeker. The locks were straight and curled slightly into loose waves at the ends. The only thing that reminded him of his older self was his eyebrows, still unbelievably thick but sculpted and more slender. He then looked down to his front, he felt naked to say the least. He quickly crossed his arms over his new developed chest and was thankful to have not obtained any curves.

Then a horrifying thought dawned upon him. England looked straight down to his pants and took a shuddery breath. He quickly grasped the waistband of his pants, thankful that he had left that and his undershirt on last night. Then pulled them open to peek inside, his face quickly went red at the sight and he let go; wincing as the waist snapped against his skin once more. Arthur put a hand to his forehead and backed up to the wall, sliding down to the floor as he shook his head. _This… is bad. Great going you twit, you miraculously turned yourself into a woman. On the day of the G8 meeting too. _"Wait a second, the spell… maybe it could be reversed."

England scrambled to his feet and pulled open the door, almost powerful enough to make it fly off its hinges. Arthur reached the private study in record time and searched for the book among the millions of disheveled novels and papers. Furrowing his brow he crouched down and scanned the floor, "Aha there it is."

He picked up the spell book and quickly flipped to the page, and sure enough right across the one that he was trying to cast upon America was a transformation spell. He must have read the wrong one. England clicked his tongue and then began to read for the expiration date or a spell to reverse the effect. Upon finding the fine-print at the bottom England turned white. _This spell is not reversal; expiration date can be three to five weeks or months. _

"No… no." He flipped the pages again, but no dice. "Bloody hell, this is impossible." He threw the book across the room and sighed in dismay, he would be stuck in this female form for who knows how long. Arthur hanged his head down and stared at his feet. His stupid feminine feet.

"England open up! It's Hungary! You better have a good reason for calling me over here at seven in the morning!" Arthur whirled his head around toward the constant loud knocking and sighed in relief, closure at long last.

"_Coming_!" Arthur slapped his hands over his mouth in surprise, his voice. His voice was now high-pitched and light. He mentally groaned and with much reluctance went to open the front door.


	3. Houston? We've made a breakthrough

_**A/N: Sorry for the extremely long wait for this chapter. I had writer's block and I am going to Otakon in a month, so I was getting my Hidan from Naruto Cosplay finished and my Sora from Kingdom Hearts cosplay finished. Again, this is what you all requested. An update. I hope that the long wait was worth it for you all, and once again I am sorry. One more thing before I let you read, is anyone out there that reads this story going to Otakon 2010? I would love to meet my readers, and if not then I wish you all a wonderful summer. I do not own Hetalia or its characters, you all should know this. Goodbye, peace and love! -Ash 3**_

* * *

Although Arthur did in fact invite the Hungarian over to help him sort out this entire mess, he soon regretted it. This was all due to three simple things: One, he had to swallow his pride and reveal that he; a master magician had made an error and turned himself into a woman. Two, while panicking he did not assess how he was going to open the door without a strange confrontation. Then last but not least, three he was about certain he was going to miss the meeting and his record attendance would be tossed right out the window. England gulped as Hungary pounded on the door once more in impatience, she would probably knock it down in a few more minutes to strangle him if he didn't invite her in. Arthur glanced around frantically and snatched a throw rug from the couch and draped it over his head, making completely sure that only his face was visible. Then with a burst of confidence and a strained noise, he threw open the door and blindly reached out for the Hungarian; grabbing her arm tightly and pulling her into the house before anyone could see him and his ordeal. Elizabeth squeaked in surprise and stumbled forward, waving her arms to maintain balance while Arthur slammed his arm against the door to shut it. She turned around after stopping herself from crashing right into his coffee table and raised a nonplussed eyebrow at him. England ignored her for the time being and proceeded to lock his door and then jiggle the doorknob for a precaution before sprinting around the house, shutting every drape and putting his tiny abode on total lockdown.

"Is there a good reason that you are doing that Kirkland? Along with that blanket over your head?"

Elizabeth asked, looking the definition of terrified and anxious. England just nearly nodded and continued this charade, not wanting to speak and reveal his new tweaked vocal chords. Arthur then ambled back with a sigh, grabbed Elizabeth by the shoulders and sat her down on the couch then returning to stand in the middle of the living room.

England stared at her for a few minutes, clutching the blanket with nervous hands and furrowing his brows in contemplation on how to break the news to her. "Well…" He stopped, and grunted before lowering his voice to as much extent as he could muster. "You see I was messing around in my study last night with my magic… and I will admit now it was supposed to be something for that git Alfred."

Elizabeth grinned, and he quickly sputtered a response before she could even speak. "It I-is nothing like that you hormonal crazed girl!" He sighed as her grin subsided into a pout before continuing on. "It was going to shut him up at the G8 meeting today, for just a while so I can finally put some of my points across. Because he just always goes on and on about one topic and that insufferable dolt never lets me get one single word in! I mean-…"

"Your rambling England… and did you pluck your eyebrows? You didn't exactly do a better job"

He coughed and composed himself, "Sorry… and no I didn't! Like I was saying, well even after the fact that I was one-hundred percent sure that I had mastered said incantation, it backfired and turned me into something…. Horrible…" England watched Elizabeth lean back in her seat and thought about his choice of words. "Not horrible in your view, just… horrible in my own."

She nodded and sat there, relaxing and closing her eyes to think. England watched, twitching at every noise and move she made until she finally nodded her head in sage-like agreement. "So you turned your entire body except for your face into something grotesque in your image…." She then leaned her body close and examined him up and down then cupped her hands over her mouth and murmured a response. "Did… you switch bodies with Francis?"

"WH-what? No, no you stupid-…" He groaned and turned on his heel to pace back and forth across the living room, all the while biting his lip and holding back the numerous insults that surfaced in his throat. _I would never be so stupid to turn myself into that self-absorbed perverted frog! He's so…. _England squinted his eyes… _French. _

"Well what the hell is it then? If you're going to waste my time then you should have called someone else Arthur! Just spit it out already you idiot!" Elizabeth yelled in irritation. England turned to her quickly and frowned before throwing off the throw rug, letting his newly acquired golden locks flow free from his head and spreading his arms wide to release the mounds attached to his chest.

"I'm a woman, a bloody fucking dainty woman! There I said it, go ahead and laugh your head off!" England screamed in defense, letting his constricted voice out with a shrill cry.

Hungary glared at him, then her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. She glanced upward in awe and then downward in confusion. She grunted a few half-hearted responses before choked and completely fell silent. England raised an eyebrow and watched in turn, frowning at her while she continued this bizarre behavior.

"Good god Kirkland…." She said finally before standing up, swaying and then regaining her footing by grabbing onto the armrest of the couch. Arthur watched as she sat back down and muttered, "You-… you're…so pretty." Then with a small laugh, she passed out cold right on top of the sofa.

England stared at the passed out Hungarian in disbelief, out of all things she could do out of the following: Laugh, scream, or dial 911. The great and powerful country, Hungary simply passed out on the couch and said that he, as a woman, was pretty. Arthur snarled in agitation and looked up at the ceiling, nodding to gods of karma sarcastically.

"Really? Are you utterly serious?" He kicked the coffee table over, "Do you get a kick out of this because I certainly hope you do!" He grimaced and then glanced at the unconscious Hungary once more, "Assholes…"


End file.
